


A Question of Healing

by Curlew



Series: A Question of.... [5]
Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, plague related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24076063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curlew/pseuds/Curlew
Summary: Last in this series I think. I’m probably not going to be able to forget Jace though, so he might reappear at some stage! It depends how long lockdown lasts.....Jace is a character I “borrowed” from the wonderful writer K Hanna Korossy.
Series: A Question of.... [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726501
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	A Question of Healing

Hutch put down his guitar with a sigh and closed his eyes. Five minutes he’d managed this time before the instrument became unbearably heavy, and threatened to fall out of his hands. Five bloody minutes. At least that was longer than he was able to stand up in the shower, or to wash the dishes. Or concentrate on a book, or the TV.

“Ready to go back to bed?”

“I’ve only just got up”

“Crash out on the sofa then. Something to eat?”

“I’ve only just had lunch”

Starsky just managed to stop himself saying “Half a bowl of soup - that you call lunch?” In the three days since Hutch had come out of the hospital, Starsky had detected in himself a worrying tendency to channel his mother and was trying to stamp it out before his partner was strong enough to deck him. 

“I know it’s hard. But you knew it would be - Judith said you weren’t ready to leave the hospital”

“I’d been in the hospital for two weeks!”

“And you’d still be there if you hadn’t made such a dick of yourself that they kicked you out”

“I hated it in there”

“You don’t seem that keen on it here either”

“I thought.....oh shit- I don’t know what I thought”

He looked so dispirited and miserable that Starsky’s exasperation vanished, to be replaced by a surge of transcendent joy that he was alive. Grouchy, awkward, still in a place somewhere between illness and convalescence, but properly alive - no longer hovering between life and death. 

“You’re hurting. Want a pain pill?”

“No”

“Back rub?”

Hutch hesitated, then wordlessly turned over onto his front. Starsky worked at the knotted shoulders, then ran long firm strokes down back and sides where the lingering kidney infection still burned.

“That feels good”

He sounded drowsy, so Starsky concentrated on a gentle rhythm until his breaths lengthen into sleep. With relief, he stood up, pulled a rug over his friend and sat back, closing his own eyes. It had been quite a fortnight. Hutch had gone practically overnight from a robust, glowing, six minute mile a day picture of health to this thin, white, heavy eyed shadow, in constant pain, too exhausted to hold his guitar. Starsky had never been so frightened or felt so helpless. He still felt pretty helpless, he admitted. Hutch had been released early from hospital on the understanding that Jace would visit on his way to and from work and Starsky and other friends would look after him. But he was not proving easy to look after. After the first euphoria of being home, his weakness and incapacity had shocked him, making him angry and frustrated. His sharp tongue had already lashed the people who loved him best. It had been, Starsky reflected, a difficult 3 days.

Later that day, Jace put his head round the open French doors to the greenhouse and found Hutch dozing on the bench. He had been tending a plant, but the pot had fallen from his hand and lay, spilling soil on the deck at his feet. Jace bent to pick it up, packed the soil back safely round its roots, and put it carefully back on the bench.

“Can you give it some water? In the can there”

Jace did as he was asked, then cast an eye over his patient.

“Tough day, huh?”

“Yeah”

“It’ll get better”

“So I’m told”

“Today’s bloods were good. Lab told me it almost looked like blood”

A breath of laughter.

“Wish I almost looked like me”

“Would it help to remind you how you were this time last week?”

“No”

“I’ve done it anyway” He held out his hand and pulled Hutch to his feet. “Come on, let’s get this over with. Bed or sofa?”

“Sofa. Where’s Starsky?

“Gone to the store. His mom says you need steak”

Hutch groaned as he took off his shirt and lay down on the sofa. Jace washed his hands and opened the old fashioned doctor bag he affected for home visits.

“I don’t think I could eat steak”

“If you manage some it’ll do you both good”

“Both?”

“Here - put this under your tongue and don’t talk. Yes, both of you. You need the protein and the iron. He needs to feel he’s doing something to help you. He’s been on a knife edge this past two weeks. He tore up the city to bring Callendar in - then all of a sudden he had nothing to do except sit with you. Nowhere to put all that adrenaline. Your blood pressure’s still a bit low- and your temperature’s a bit high. But both going in the right direction. Where’s the pain mostly now? In your back?”

“Yeah. And my chest. And my head aches. And I ache”

“Taking the painkillers?”

“Yes”

“Don’t lie. Every 4 hours on the nail”

“But...”

“Breathe in and hold....and out. And again...That’s sounding a lot better. Take them or I tell Starsky”

“You wouldn’t”

“I certainly would. You’ll mend more slowly if you’re dealing with pain you don’t need to at the same time. Does it hurt when I press there? And there? Sorry. Kidneys still not right, are they? Still blood when you pee?”

“Yeah. Not as much though”

“Tell me if it gets worse - and I’ll need a sample for the lab tomorrow morning. Just your shots now and we’re done. You want to roll over for me?”

Hutch made a face, rolled over and braced himself.

“He did more than just sit with me, though”

“First stick coming up. I know that and you know that. Does he know that?”

“He must do. He was a fucking rock”

“And again. There - all done. Have you told him?”

‘Well, not in so many words”

“How would he know, then?”

Hutch stopped with his shirt half on, staring at Jace with an expression of amazement on his face. Jace smiled at him and carried on repacking his bag.

“I promise you’ll be feeling better every day now. You're over the worst. And you’ll feel better if you talk to Starsky. Take your mind off your troubles. See you in the morning”

With a wink and a wave he was gone before Hutch could protest.

“Do you want to eat at the table or on the sofa?”

“On the sofa please - so long as you come and sit here too. I want to talk to you” 

“Sure will- I’ll be right there”

Starsky busied himself with crockery and cutlery and glasses of juice and Hutch’s before food pills and cushions and soon they were settled, one at each end of the long sofa, legs stretched out, sharing the Navaho rug Starsky loved and had brought from his own apartment to brighten Hutch’s subdued decor.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Never mind that- what have you done to my dinner?”

“I just cut it up a bit. Stop kvetching- eat and talk!”

“I wanted to say thank you”

“What for?”

“Everything. I’ve been an arsehole”

“You nearly died. You’re entitled”

“No I’m not. You saved my life, and I’m treating you like shit”

Starsky shrugged. “Any good cop would have found Callendar. I’m a good cop”

“I agree. I’m not talking about that”

“What are you talking about then? Drink some juice- you need the fluids and the vitamins. And eat”

Hutch obediently did both, then carried on

“Starsk, I don’t remember much about the time I was really sick. I remember feeling as if I was alone and lost in a desert- it was too hot to breathe, and I had been there for ever, stumbling in circles. If anyone touched me it was only to hurt me even more than I was hurting already, and I was so very tired, I wanted to lie down and die. I just wanted it to stop.”

“Buddy, you don’t have to go back over this-it’s done. You’re getting better”

“It’s fine- I want to talk about it.” He drank more juice and carried on. “And then suddenly there was something stronger than the heat and the pain. Something anchoring me - and I wasn’t on my own any more”

Starsky shifted uncomfortably “Hutch, I....”

“No, buddy, you’re not wriggling out of this soapy scene. That anchor was you. Jace said you sat holding me for 3 solid days and nights until I was out of danger. And he said they gave up on me twice but you wouldn’t. And you’re still being an anchor now. So thank you. And I’m sorry for being an arsehole”

He held out his hand. After a moment, Starsky took it, squeezed, held it to his face for a fleeting moment, then jumped up to clear the plates, casually brushing his sleeve across his eyes as he did. 

“Hey, will you look at that! Mom was right!

“What about?”

“She said if I cut your food up real small, gave you a fork and got you talking, you’d eat without noticing. And she was right- steak, potatoes and green beans all gone”

He bustled off to the kitchen with the plates and put them in the sink.

“Hutch?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re welcome”


End file.
